Absolutely No Shame
by Laura Schiller
Summary: The Mystery of Edwin Drood, 2012 miniseries. On the way to the carriage, Helena and Rev. Crisparkle have another talk about the case. Can she convince him to take her warning to heart this time?


Absolutely No Shame

By Laura Schiller

Based on: The Mystery of Edwin Drood

Copyright: Charles Dickens' estate/BBC

The sight of a tall, black-coated figure coming up alongside her and trying to take her luggage made Helena Landless more apprehensive than she would admit. She was in a hurry; the last thing she wanted was a repeat of their last meeting. The Minor Canon need not think that he owed her anything now.

"I can carry my own bags, sir," she snapped, her Ceylonese accent coming out as it always did under stress.

"But why should you, when a friend offers himself as a beast of burden?"

Mr. Crisparkle's voice was so warm, so much like the early days, that it made her hesitate and look at him almost in spite of herself. He took advantage of her uncertainty to relieve her of both bags.

"A friend?" she repeated. Was he really?

"I wish we had not quarrelled," he said, his eyes shining down at her with what appeared to be genuine regret. If she did not know better, she never would have recognized this man as the one who had so recently cut her down with a few sharp words. Their voices echoed in her memory, a discordant duet of anger and mistrust. _Mr. Jasper is in love with Rosa – if you can call it that, this raging, angry thing. Dear God, Mr. Crisparkle, you have seen him! In your own house, sitting at your own piano, devouring her with his looks!_

_Tell me, Miss Landless, have you absolutely no shame?_

"You were correct in supposing me to have no shame," said Helena, drawing herself up to meet the Minor Canon almost eye-to-eye. "I am not ashamed of my parentage, though the citizens of this town seem to think I should be. I am also not ashamed for what I have told you about Mr. Jasper. Deny it all you want, it is the truth. You know me well enough by now, I hope, to know that I would never willfully deceive you."

"Except by omission?" Mr. Crisparkle retorted. "When _were_ you and Mr. Neville going to tell me about your father?"

"I do not know!"She threw up her hands in exasperation. "When we found out that Captain Drood was dead, my brother and I did not see the sense in tarnishing his reputation after death and making a scandal just to satisfy our curiosity. We decided to, how do you say this? 'Let sleeping dogs lie'. But with Mr. Edwin gone, everything has changed, has it not? Every piece of information matters. Neville's timing could have been better, I admit, but I am glad the truth is out. Believe me, I am every bit as eager for this terrible mystery to be solved as you are!"

She had been marching along, keeping her eyes on the street ahead of her, with such single-minded speed that Mr. Crisparkle's big, gentle hand on her shoulder spun her abruptly in his direction. He caught her with his other hand, blue eyes meeting black without a trace of judgment or suspicion. She watched as a blush began to illuminate his pale English complexion. Could it be that _he_ was ashamed?

"I understand now," he said, letting her go with two polite steps backward. "I should never have spoken to you in such terms … I am out of my depth here, you see. Of course that is never an excuse, but we are so _sheltered_ here in Cloisterham – we have not had anything like a – a murder, if murder it is, in so many years … " He blinked hard, possibly blinking away tears. "It is a terrible thing, and it has overset us all. Poor Mr. Jasper more than most. Watching my old friend suffer day after day, I … "

Helena's heart ached for this good minister, whose harsh response to her had been nothing more than a defense against the darkest side of human nature intruding on his innocent life.

"You do not wish to think ill of him," she said, completing his unspoken thought. "I know. But might not a stranger perceive what familiar eyes have not?"

"Perhaps," he sighed. "Perhaps. But still, to believe him capable of such … "

"I do not take this lightly, Mr. Crisparkle, far from it. It is a grave thing for me to accuse Mr. Jasper of pursuing Rosa against her will, or bearing false witness against Neville. But for the sake of my brother and my friend, for your own honest nature, you cannot – you _will _not dismiss my words so easily!"

She almost blushed to hear her own voice becoming so authoritative, to one who was not only ten years her senior, but entitled to respect as Neville's tutor and a man of God. Instead she had spoken to him as she would to Neville, when her impulsive twin was about to make some serious mistake.

She half-expected Mr. Crisparkle to turn against her one more time, even shout at her, as her stepfather would have done for much less cause. She did _not_ expect him to bow his curly head, then look at her with true contrition and respect

"I defer to your judgment," he said. "I will watch Mr. Jasper as closely as I can, until he is proven innocent – or guilty. And, Miss Helena … I am truly sorry for my hasty, ill-tempered words. Can you forgive me?"

Relief and something else, something warm and bright igniting in the deepest corner of her heart, made her smile at him.

"Dear sir, I already have."

They walked on together, hurrying to make up for lost time, but always with each other's faces in the corners of their eyes. By the time they arrived at the station, with the carriage already about to leave, Helena could feel time slip away at an alarming rate. The horses stamping on the pavement, the driver's impatient yell of "All aboard!", the green doors opening to let her in, made it all too real. She was leaving – and she was leaving _him._

"This is all happening too quickly," she heard herself say, leaning out the window for one last look into those summer-blue eyes. "Reverend Crisparkle, kindest of men, so much kinder than we deserve – "

Nevile was not the only Landless twin who could be impulsive. Before she could lose her nerve, Helena leaned forward to brush her lips against Mr. Crisparkle's cheek. The smile he gave her in return was so tentative, she might have imagined it, and before either of them could speak a word, the coach rattled away.

Still, she leaned into her seat with a giddy smile on her face. While any other young lady would have been mortified, Helena Landless was, once again, absolutely without shame.


End file.
